


Sinking Under

by Cant_We_Just_Dance



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Cheating, Drowning, I cant even describe how it works, JUST, Kinda death but not really, M/M, Read it bro, jeffmads - Freeform, like seriously, overly poetic, too much poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-13 22:13:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11769456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cant_We_Just_Dance/pseuds/Cant_We_Just_Dance
Summary: Sometimes, if he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine what if felt to breathe again.





	Sinking Under

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this is @jamisahivemind from tumblr! Make sure to comment, kudos, and hang out with me over on the hellsite!

Sometimes, if he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine what if felt to breathe again.

The gentle breezes flowing in the air would fill his lungs, his chest would rise and fall as the world surrounded him with softness and kindness. Small sunbeams would shine onto his smile, not quite shining in his eyes. And if the sun wasn’t shining in his eyes, it meant that Thomas’s hair was catching each small refraction in the coiled curls of his hair, twisting and twirling around into golden swirling flames.

But there were no flames here, and any that may have lingered were quickly put out with freezing cold water, surrounding him until he sunk into the depths that he had pulled himself into.

When the world was still quiet, and flowers still blossomed, and the sky was still blue, Thomas had told him that the world was theirs, and only theirs. That each and every picture found in the clouds above had been perfectly formed in order to allow them to enjoy such a sight together. When the sun set, as it is known to do, each color splattered across the horizon in pastel watercolor, James had settled himself into Thomas’s lap and leaned back against him, chuckling softly as the taller man leaned over and pressed kisses to the most ticklish parts of his neck.

Now, the skies were diluted, and slivers of sunlight turned silver as it beat down on his mind, rippling in and crashing down in waves. And no matter how much he kicked and tried, he could never break the surface and bask in the pure sunlight once more.

Some nights, Thomas would be away, and James could pull his pillow close and hold it tightly against himself. It was no substitute for his boyfriend, but it did the job of giving his heart the illusion of companionship on those nights. Later on, he would suppose that he should have asked Thomas to come home, to not spend the night elsewhere- and even later on, he would know that asking such a thing of Thomas Jefferson would be futile.

His hair was soaked, and whenever he opened his eyes, the world around him was strangely still, although it felt anything but. Waves turned and twisted his thoughts, until he could no longer cry. Instead, all he could do was stare onward, hoping for rescue that he knew would never truly arrive. That didn’t stop him from hoping- he’d hoped for a great many impossible things, before.

He had, for example, hoped that Thomas would have an explanation for the texts on his phone, with the sender being addressed as such words that were typically reserved for James. ‘Darling’, ‘sweetie’, and a variety of other words that James had thought he was the only one hearing were typed and sent in messages on Thomas’s phone, going as far back as three months.

When Thomas got home and realized what James had seen, James hoped that Thomas would sway his thoughts, empty promises disguised as dreams filled to the brim with affection. He had also hoped that Thomas didn’t truly mean what he told James in response. That Thomas didn’t truly want him, that he’d stayed with the shorter man due to what felt like obligation. That Thomas didn’t love him.

He didn’t hope that Thomas loved him, as he was pulled down into the darkest depths of his mind, water filling his lungs instead of the air which he so desperately craved.

Even hope had its limitations.


End file.
